Edmund Bertram's Diary

APRIL

Saturday 1 April

There was some improvement in Tom’s condition today. The fever seemed less, and for the first time I felt there was hope, real hope, that he would recover.

Tuesday 4 April

Tom had a good night, and the physician said that, if his improvement continues, he will be well enough to make the journey to Mansfield tomorrow. I am more relieved than I can say. I want, more than anything, to have him safely home again.

Wednesday 5 April

The physician called again this morning and pronounced himself satisfied with Tom’s progress. I made arrangements for the journey, and once the carriage was as comfortable and warm as I could make it, I carried him downstairs and put him inside. He smiled weakly, and said it made a change to have me carrying him when he was ill and not drunk, and I smiled, too, but my smile was no stronger than his. I was seriously worried, for he weighed nothing at all. I wrapped him about with blankets and then we set off. The journey was good and the weather fine, but he became progressively weaker as the day went on, and he was feverish again by the time we arrived.

Mama was horrified at the sight of him, and to be sure he looked very ill when he was carried into the house, for he was white and sweating, and he was delirious. My father looked very grave and Tom was quickly got to bed whilst our own physician was sent for. He did all he could for him, and now we must trust to the fact that Tom is at home, where he can be properly cared for, to bring him about.

Monday 10 April

Julia has offered to come home if we have need of her, but there is nothing she can do, and my father thinks she is better where she is. I wrote to her directly, telling her that she need not come home at present. She has not seen Maria recently, for Maria is spending Easter with the Aylmers at Twickenham whilst Rushworth has gone down to Bath to fetch his mother. Julia has seen Mary, though, and has told her of Tom’s illness. I wish I had more time to think of Mary, but with Tom so ill, I can think of nothing else. And perhaps it is a good thing, for I am worn out by asking myself if Mary will have me or not.

Wednesday 12 April

Tom is out of danger, thank God, and Mama is at last made easy. It has been a terrible week for her, seeing Tom laid so low. But the fever has subsided, and we have encouraged her to think that, now it has gone, Tom will soon be well. She smiled again for the first time since she heard of Tom’s fall, and she wrote to Fanny straightaway, to tell her that he was much improved. I do not know what she would have done without Fanny this week, for although Fanny is not here, her presence is everywhere felt. Mama has found it a comfort to write to her every day, sharing her hopes and fears, and my father is grateful for it. But today I felt compelled to write my own letter to Fanny, to let her know the real state of affairs, for although Tom’s fever has subsided there are some strong hectic symptoms which we are keeping from Mama. The physician cannot say which way things will go. They may go well, in which case Tom will make a full recovery, but if they go badly, there is a danger to his lungs. all we can do now is watch and pray, and hope Tom’s youth and vigor will see him through.

Thursday 13 April

I sat with Tom again this morning and he felt strong enough to talk, saying, ‘What a fool I have been, Edmund.’

‘Nonsense. Your spirits are low. You will soon be well again, and then you will think yourself a very clever fellow,’ I said.

He laughed at this, but his laugh turned to a cough which tired him and so I refrained from talking to him afterwards, instead bidding him to lie quietly and conserve his strength. I was about to leave his room when he restrained me with a feeble hand, saying, ‘Stay. It does me good to have you here. My father is too loud, and my mother too tearful. You are the only one I can stand.’

And so I sat beside him again, glad to be of use.

Friday 14 April

Tom seemed a little stronger today, and I read to him.

‘What? Not The Rake’s Progress?’ he asked, as I took up the book. It was good to hear him joking, and I pray he may soon be well. If the hectic symptoms abate, then there is every chance of it. And with the better weather coming, it will be possible for him to sit in the garden and make a full recovery at his leisure.